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All the staff in that same shirt with hipster flourishes like partially shaved hair, knitted bangles and non-prescription glasses. They’re like a really smug cult.

Then there’s really only four things for sale. iPhone, iPod, iPad and laptops. Which you can get at about a hundred different stores. In the same shopping centre. For the same price.

Despite all the amazing things they can do, every Apple i-thingy also isn’t yet waterproof, meaning they can be destroyed by something that’s so abundant that it falls from the sky, and we’ve got it on tap.

It’s such a scam. It’s like having a flying car that melts when it rains.

So I took my water damaged iPhone into the Apple Store and the genius up the back told me it’d be cheaper to get a new one.

So I told him about the time I had sex with a real girl and his head exploded. It was filled with green Skittles, which was a surprise. I thought it would’ve been filled with loneliness and disappointment.

Then I bought a secondhand iPhone 3 on eBay for like $80.

A week later, the tattoo with eyes making my coffee noticed it and exclaimed, “Is that an iPhone 3? More like third world. Do you go home and plug it into your Atari 2600 to recharge? Then download all your music onto a cassette? I’ve got a cassette cover for my iPhone 6. Ironically.”

To which I replied, “You do know cassettes are the new records?”

Which made his head explode, and it was filled sarcastic dust and beards.

That night, he slept with a girl I really liked. Which hurt.

A week later, the Apple Store “Genius” slept with a girl I really, really liked. Which hurt more.

I’m still rocking the iPhone 3 though.

Now I’m not entirely sure, but does that mean I win? Anything? Kinda feels like it, but only very, very slightly.